The Art of Mystery
by KittyCat918
Summary: When Elyon Brown is found dead, and said to have committed suicide, Cornelia has a hard time believing that. She teams up with four other girls, and tried to solve a mystery she's not even sure is real. Everyone is a suspect.
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

It was only suitable for the weather to be dreary. With the grey clouds, and soft drizzle falling from the darkened sky; it fit her mood entirely. This had got to be the worst day of her life. Usually, when she was in a mood such as this, she would go to her best friend. But she couldn't, for it was because of her that she was in such a mood.

Her best friend, Elyon Brown, is dead, and she, Cornelia Hale, had never felt so alone.

She had gotten the news early this morning, Mrs. Brown calling in tears. Now here she was, wandering Heatherfield park like she and Elyon had done so many times before.

Her steps were slow, and she soon came to a complete stop, looking up at the street lamp that stood in her way, a soft glow luminating from it.

Her long, blonde hair was getting wet, and for the first time, she didn't care. The bottom of her long, blue skirt was damp as well, but she didn't mind. It didn't matter anymore, nothing matters.

She started walking again, her usually big, bright blue eyes, small and glazed over, as if in a trance.

Suddenly she bumped into something hard, yet soft at the same time. She was about to fall to the ground, when a pair of strong hands grasped her arms, and steadied her.

"Hey," came a manly voice. "Sorry, Miss."

She looked down at the ground, her hair creating a curtain around her face, and gave him a slight nod.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, his voice dripping with concern.

How could he, a complete stranger, be concerned for her? That use to be Elyon's job.

Suddenly she felt her chin being cupped by a pair on fingers, and her face being lifted up, only to be met with a pair green eyes, staring at her in curiosity and concern.

'_Don't look at me like that, please. . .' _Cornelia found herself thinking.

But she could tell that he was also appreciating what he was seeing. It was a look she was use to getting. She was an attractive woman at twenty-one. Her long blonde hair was the envy of a lot of girls, her face was well shaped with a bright smile, and big eyes (on days other then this), and her body was curved in the right way, usually worshiped by the male species.

Usually she would have given a flirtatious smile, and flipped her hair seductively, but she didn't have the energy. All she could do was look at him. He had green eyes, as she already figured out, bedraggle brown hair, but on him it looked good. From what she could tell he had a strong, muscular body, but he was wearing a black shirt, jeans, and a trench coat, so it was hard to tell.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his head cocking to the side.

Again she gave him a slight nod, turning her eyes to look way from his.

"Can you talk?"

Another nod.

She heard him let out a sigh, and he let go of her chin. Then he put a hand on her arm, and started pulling her toward the gate exit of the park. When she started to whimper and tried to pull away he said, "Don't worry. I'm just gonna get you a cab home. You shouldn't be walking out her in you. . .condition. . ."

He pulled her to the edge of the street, and called down a cab then gave her twenty. "Here, tell him where you live, and go home." She looked up at him, her eyes questioning, and he offered her a smile. "You seem like a nice girl, but you really gotta go home."

And she gave him a nod.

Then she stepped into the cab, whispering her address to the driver, and settled into the seat.

She stared at the man's figure as she was driven further and further away.

She decided that he was her savior.

* * *

She hated her name. Really, what kind of name was Wilma, anyway? She hated her car, an old truck was not something a girl should be driving. She hated her hair. It was too red, too short, drew too much attention. But right now, she hated her mom. 

No, it wasn't her mom she hated, it was the news she had delivered.

Her good friend, Elyon Brown, was dead.

It was a shock, like being punched in the face. She and Elyon weren't best friends, but they were close. They had met at summer camp when they were thirteen. They were the only ones who could swim four laps faster then ten minutes, which was really quiet sad in her opinion.

They had really hit it off, always keeping in touch and visiting each other once and a while.

Elyon's mother had called while she was out, leaving a message with her mother.

Now here she was, Will Vandom, driving to. . .anywhere. Well maybe not anywhere, actually. She was headed for her boyfriend Matt Olsen's house. If there was anyone she could talk to, it was him. They had been dating for three years, since her senior year in highschool, when she was eighteen. Now, being twenty-one, she can't imagine her life without him.

But then again, she had thought the same of Elyon.

Will shook her head in shame. No, nothing was going to happen to Matt, she was just still in shock. . . But she's fine now. . .she's calm. . .

Then why was she shaking so much?

She could now feel the tears flowing like a river down her cheeks, could hear her desperate sobs. She won't be able to stand this much longer. But it looks like she won't have to, some how she had been able drive through the traffic, and onto Matt's street even while in deep thought.

She parked her truck in the parking lot, and walked through the doors of the apartment building, praying that no one was wondering the hall, she didn't want anyone to see her in such a state, besides Matt anyway.

She slipped into the elevator, and pressed the number five, making it glow, and with a jolt the elevator closed its doors, and started upward. She stumbled out the doors opened again, and slowly walked toward Matt's apartment, number 42.

When she reached the wooden door, she knocked softly, and waited for a few seconds.

The door finally opened and there stood Matt, his smile faded quickly at her state of distress.

"Will?" he asked in surprise and concern. "What's wrong?"

She let out a choked sob, and jumped into his arms, crying into his chest while her hands snaked around his neck, puling herself closer. She couldn't stop the warmth the flowed over her when he wrapped his arms around her waist comfortingly.

* * *

_Just shot me now_! Thought the ever sarcastic Irma Lair. 

She was sitting at the dinner table, listening to her father blab on and on about some new case of his. She should be more interested, she should try to listen, after all, she would be working with him.

Now that was something she was _not_ looking forward too. Yes, she had always admired her father for what he did, he was, after all, a detective, but she never wanted his job! Then how did she end up like this? That had an easy answer.

She was afraid to disappoint her father.

Truth be told, she really wanted to become a marine biologist, but some how she had ended up at school, learning to be a detective, just like her father.

She wish she were more brave, like her best friend Hay Lin, for example.

Hay Lin was off at pilot school, living her dream. She didn't feel obligated to learn how to take care of her family' restaurant.

But her she was, funny, boy crazy Irma, becoming a detective. This will not end well.

"Irma, are you listening?" he father asked, giving her a stern look while also bringing her out of her pondering.

She jolted in surprise but gave him her best smile, "Course I am daddy." she replied.

Her father let out a sigh, it could of been in frustration, annoyance, or despair. Or, knowing her father, all three. "You know, Irma," he said, using his lecture voice. Yippee! "Not many internships come up like this. You're lucky to get this one, and this is a pretty big case we've got here."

"Right," Irma replied, playing with a strand of her light brown hair. "So what is it?"

"A girl, about a year older then you, was found dead this morning," he replied. "Her name was Elyon Brown."

* * *

Any normal student would have loved having a break off of school, to be able to go home and relax, but not Hay Lin. 

There was something about being able to fly high up in the skies. To feel so free.

Her best friend Irma use to joke about how the wind would carry her away someday, since she's so light and skinny, but Hay Lin knew better. The wind was her friend.

Hay Lin let out a sigh, just listening to the windshield wipers try to keep the rain out of her way, so she could safely drive down the interstate.

She listened as the catchy beat faded away, and the announcer came back on the radio.

"Heeey everyone, it's Wildcat Joe here." said the deep, but hyper voice.

Hay Lin rolled her eyes. Couldn't he think of a better name then, 'Wildcat Joe'?

"Now it's time for the news of the day! Lest's see here. . ." there was the sound of shuffling of paper. "Aw, now here's a dosey. You easy eye water's should close your ears for a sec. A twenty-one year old woman was found dead in her apartment early this morning-"

Hay Lin turned it off. She did not need sad news to ruin her already bad day.

Well, at least a visit to Irma will cheer her up. After going home, settling in, and dealing with her parents. But after that, it was going to be her and Irma, just like it use to be.

She and Irma had been friends since grade school, back in fifth grade. From then on she and Irma had been together. Not even boys could pull them apart, something they have seen happen to other girls, but they were immune to it. Maybe it helped that Hay Lin had never been that interested in a relationship, liking her independence. Or how Irma didn't seem to have the assets to turn on boys.

But that had changed for Irma. It all happened the summer before with grade. The extra fat seemed to go away. Her face got slimmer, more angelic. Her legs were longer, chest got bigger, and she seemed to grow into her body more. By highschool, she was turning down boys left from right. She had even joked about wanting to turn some of the perverted ones into frogs.

Hay Lin let out a laugh, as she turned left. She smiled when she saw the ever familiar "Welcome to Heatherfield" sign.

"I'm home." she whispered to herself.

* * *

Taranee Cook didn't know what happened. She had been visiting with her boyfriend, Nigel, who shared an apartment with Matt Olsen. 

She and Nigel were in the middle of making an early dinner, listening to Matt practice his guitar, when the doorbell rang.

It was Matt who had opened, something that was surprising to Taranee, since he never parted from his guitar after he started practicing. Then, they had heard his voice, sounding very surprised.

"Will? What's wrong?"

Will was Matt's girlfriend. Taranee had only met her six months ago, when Nigel and Matt moved in together. They instantly became friends. Will was a very introvert, and sensitive person. Taranee was like that as well, but she was more quiet and pensive, and easily distracted.

So now, here she was, her arms wrapped around Will's shoulder as she cried while Matt made some hot coco. Taranee made a hushing sound, something her mother did when Taranee was upset, and patted Will's hair.

Nigel sat near by, watching the scene in from of him with guarded eyes.

Suddenly Matt reappeared, holding a tray with four steamy cups on it. He set it down on the table, and let it cool for a while. Then he sat down on the other side of Will, on took hold of her shaking hands in his.

"What happened?" he asked her softly, stroking the back of her smooth hands. Taranee smiled at how caring he sounded.

Will shookher head, and cried harder. Taranee pulled her arms off of her as Matt took her into an embrace, and she cried into his chest.

Taranee couldn't help but feel helpless. She had never seen Will like this. She knew Will was easily hurt, but she had never sobbed her heart out. Taranee's heart clenched at the scene.

After a few minutes, Will's cries and shakes slowed down, and her breathing even out. She pulled away from Matt, and let out a sigh.

"Are you ready to tell us?" Nigel questioned. Taranee shot him a glare, but he only shrugged.

But Will gave them a nod. "Yeah. . . I'm ready." she said softly, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "My good friend. . .Elyon. . .died today. . ." she said, tears coming back into her eyes.

Taranee was shocked. She had met Elyon once before, and she was such a nice girl. So young and vibrant. . .

Will started crying again, and Taranee wrapped her arms around her once again.

Will had lost one friend, but she still had her, Taranee Cook, and she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

Okay, this is my first W.I.T.C.H. story. It's AU, so don't think I'm completely stupid and know nothing, lol. I hope you liked it. This chapter was really just explaining each of their connection to Elyon. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter One_

_This is boring, oh so boring, it's so boring that I'm bored out of my miiind!_ Irma sang in her in head to the tone of 'I Feel Pretty'. And who wouldn't be bored? She was sitting in one of the many chairs around a big oak desk, discussing the will of Elyon Brown. Everyone she had mentioned, not including her parents since they were going to talk to them later, were there.

One was the woman who looked a little older then her. She was beautiful, that much Irma could see. Her long blonde hair was held back by a purple head band. A green shirt held tightly to her curves, and the skirt she wore made her look exotic.

Another girl defiantly stood out as well. She was pretty as well. With her short red hair, giving her an innocent look. She had brown eyes that looked so unaccustomed to the sadness within them. They were eyes that looked like they were usually bright and happy. She were a loose fitting orange sweatshirt, and jeans.

Next to the red head was a girl that hadn't been invited at first, but she came along with the red head for support, which Irma found rather touching. The girl herself was okay looking, not beautiful but she had a certain air around her. She was a black girl with black hair with a braid on the left side of her head. She wore a long sleeved red shirt, and a jean skirt. But the thing Irma found the most interesting about her was her glasses. Irma had never seen anyone look as good in glasses as this girl did.

Along with the three girls were others that were close to Elyon Brown. But for some reason, Irma didn't find them as interesting as the three she had just described.

"Which one of you is..." Irma's father began, before looking at a piece of paper in his hands. "Cornelia Hale?"

Irma watched as the pretty blonde, who seemed to be in a daze throughout the whole conversation, snapped her head up. "Oh... That would be me." she said softly.

"Alright, thank you." Irma's father replied, smiling at her. "What about Wilma Vandom."

The red head raised her hand. "Me."

"Thank you," then he turned his head to look at the black woman. "And you are?"

"I'm Taranee Cook," said the girl. "I'm here for... moral support."

Her father nodded went on with the names, but Irma found herself once again spacing out.

'Yesterday was fun,' she thought, her mind wondering about the days events. She and Hay Lin, who had come back for vacation, had gone to the beach with all of their friends.

Irma let out a relaxed sigh. Just the thought of the beach calmed her. She had stayed in the water practically the whole time they were there. It's not like she couldn't. She could stay in the bathtub for two hours without even getting pruney. Hay Lin had always said it was because she was half fish or something.

'I wish.' she thought.

Suddenly she was brought out from her thoughts by a soft shout.

"No!" said Cornelia Hale, as she stood up in her seat.

'Dad must have told her about how Elyon died...' Irma thought, feeling sympathy for the woman.

"Elyon would never... She was happy! She wouldn't kill herself!" she practically screamed. Everyone in the room was staring at her, either in sympathy, shock, or sorrow.

"She was found hanging from the banister by a rope. Ms. Hale," Irma's father told her sternly. Irma looked at him in shock. How could he be so cruel as to say that? Couldn't he be a little more compassionate? This woman had just lost someone she loved dearly! Could he not show a little more tenderness toward that fact?

Irma watched as theWill woman put a hand on Cornelia's shoulder, and comfortingly brought her to sit back down.

But for some reason Cornelia's words rang through Irma's head.

"_She was happy! She wouldn't kill herself!"_

And for some strange reason, Irma found herself believing the hysterical blonde woman.

* * *

Taranee watched as Will and Cornelia broke away from their embrace. Will seemed to ask her something, but Cornelia shook her head. Will said something else, and this time the other girl nodded. Then Cornelia got into her silver porche and drove away. 

Taranee then walked up to Will and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Will she be alright?" she asked.

Will gave her a smile and nodded her head. "In time. Cornelia and Elyon were best friends, so it might take awhile. I think she's still in shock from...well, you know."

Taranee nodded. The fact that Elyon had killed herself. Taranee couldn't even think about how Cornelia felt, or Will, or anyone else that was close to this girl. "Is it okay for her to be alone?"

Will let out a small laugh. "Yeah. Cornelia's not going to follow Elyon. She's not that stupid..." She trailed off, leaving Taranee to look at her questioningly.

"What?" Taranee asked.

"This may sound stupid but... I kinda believe Cornelia. I mean, Elyon wasn't the type to kill herself either. She had tons of friends, a loving family, and was always so happy. She even got accepted into that art school she applied to, the one she had been dreaming of going too. I don't get why she would..."

Taranee smiled some more, and squeezed her shoulder. "If that's what you believe, I believe it too."

Will returned her smile, and placed her hand over hers. "Thank you, Taranee. Really, thank you for everything."

But there was something that Taranee was keeping from Will. Something that might or might not be important.

Cornelia Hale seemed oddly familiar.

* * *

Hay Lin wanted to scream. She wanted to scream, throw things, and basicallyhave a tantrum. 

She could not believe her parents! How could they! Did they think her to be lonely? Did they think she couldn't take care of her own love life? Well _apparently_ since they invited over their _good friends_ and his _son,_ who, coincidently, was her age.

Ugh! How could they? She should have known they would do something like this.

"Hay Lin!" She heard her mother call. "Come greet our guests!"

Oh _great_, they're here!

Hay Lin let out a sigh asshe checked her reflection one more time. Her long black hair was is its usual pigtails, and she wore a pink tank top and jean skirt. She looked presentable enough.

She reluctantly dragged herself from the safety of her room, and into the living room. Standing beside her parents were another Asian couple, and next to them was the most handsome boy, no, man she had ever seen.

He had unruly black hair and brown eyes. He wore jeans, a grey t-shirt and red over shirt. What caught her attention the most, though, was the red glimmering helmet tucked under his right arm. Did he drive a motorcycle?

"Hay Lin," her father began. "This is Mr. And Mrs. Lyndon," he gesture to the two other parents. Then he moved he hand toward the boy. "And their son, Eric."

"H-Hello," Hay Lin said. She nearly slapped herself for stuttering. Since when did she stutter? Irma was the boy crazy one dammit! She got even more aggravated at how her knees weakened when Eric smiled at her.

"Hi," he said. "It's nice meeting you." He stuck out his hand.

He _had_ to be kidding. She could hardly deal with just speaking to him, how could he expect for her to touch him? Who cares if it was just a greeting, it was still skin to skin.

So she did something that most likely shamed her parents. She ignored his hand and sat down on the couch, and took one of the cups of tea that were set on the coffee table.

She ignored the shocked faces of her parents, the Lyndon's as well as Eric's.

Hay Lin would _not_ let this boy get the better of her.

She would not fall in love with him.

* * *

Cornelia walked through the park once again, but this time more aware of her surroundings. Around her couples walked by hand in hand, arm in arm. Children ran around, playing tag or hide and seek. 

She let out a sigh as her strides grew longer. She came to a stop when she was at her destination.

The fountain.

It was the fountain she and Elyon always sat at when they just wanted to relax and talk. Elyon would also always come here to sketch, with Cornelia had posing more than once.

The fountain itself was rather interesting. The concrete path only surrounded half of it, while the other half stood at the edge of a rather large hill. She and Elyon had, on many occasions, twirled around on the edge of the fountain, seeing if they would fall down the hill. But it had never happened. Both of them had always been graceful, Cornelia more so than Elyon.

Cornelia smiled slightly at the memories, as she climbed onto the edge of the fountain. She took a deep breathe, closed her eyes, and started twirling around.

She must have gone around at least twice before her emotions got the better of her, and tears escaped down her cheeks.

She missed Elyon so much.

Suddenly, she felt her foot get caught at the marble edge of the fountain. She struggled to keep her balance, but it was in vain. She faintly heard a gruff voice call out, "Watch out!"

She suddenly fell, hitting something rather familiar. She and this familiar object rolled down the hill, but soon came to a stop at the bottom.

Cornelia groaned as she moved her head slightly. She wasn't laying on the soft grass. Instead she was laying on...someone's chest?

Her eyes widened, and she moved her head even further, coming face to face with...

Her savior.

* * *

Will sighed as she looked through her photo album. Tears fell down her face as she looked a particular picture of her and Elyon, theirs arms wrapped around each others shoulders, wearing their bathing suites. They had just finished a swimming marathon at camp, Will winning by a millisecond. 

She turned to the next page and smiled slightly. There was she, Elyon, and Cornelia, all standing in front of an oversized plastic chicken. That was the first time Will went to visit Elyon. She had met Cornelia, and they became fast friends, something that was still hard to believe most people. They were pretty much complete opposites.

That day, the three girls had gone all over the town, showing Will everything they could. The photo was taken at Big Bangies Barbeque, they had the _best_ chicken in town.

But suddenly something rang through Will's mind. Something Elyon had said that day when Cornelia had gone to the washroom.

"_Cornelia's someone who needs a shoulder to lean on. I can't imagine her without someone to give her support. That's why we're so close. She needs someone to depend on, and I need someone to depend on me."_

It's been three hours since Cornelia and she parted ways. Will was getting worried. She really didn't think Cornelia was capable of suicide, but still... She hadn't thought Elyon to be either.

No! Will couldn't think things like that.

But she couldn't help it. She was getting paranoid, because of this whole thing, she was beginning to expect everyone in her life to disappear.

Matt, Taranee, Cornelia, mom, everyone.

It was starting to get annoying.

But something wasn't right. Elyon was too happy to do something so drastic. There had to be something else. She felt it, Cornelia felt it, something was wrong.

But what?

If it wasn't suicide, what could have happened? A freak accident? A joke? A murder?

Murder...

Could that be the truth? Could that be what had really happened? But if it was, why would someone want to kill her? Why would someone want to kill Elyon?

Why?

* * *

There you have it. Pleace excuse any grammatic errors, I'll fix those later. Remember, reviews are our friends! Well at least mine, anyway. 


End file.
